


Late Night With Grunt

by elfgirl931



Series: Sanar Shepard [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Humor, cute nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfgirl931/pseuds/elfgirl931
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grunt asks Shepard an odd question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night With Grunt

      “What kind of gun is that?” The question startled Sanar out of the deep reverie she slid into while cleaning her weapons. She looked up from the table and almost smacked her nose into Grunt’s face.

      “What have I told you about personal space, Grunt?” she sighed, giving him a little tap on his chestplate.

      “Sorry, Shepard,” he grunted, unfazed by her rebuke. He backed up an infinitesimal amount and repeated his question, gazing at the weapon table with fascination.

      “It’s called a Revenant. It’s an assault rifle.” Sanar rolled her eyes and started packing up her cleaning supplies. Once Grunt got into curiosity mode, there was no distracting him.

      “I know those. They have a high rate of fire, good for killing a lot of enemies at once.”

      “That’s right. It’s my favorite.” Sanar stood up and eyed Grunt for a moment. “What are you doing up, anyway? It’s the middle of the sleep cycle.”

      “Slept enough in my tank.” He suddenly wouldn’t meet her eye, and that alone was enough to peak her interest. Grunt always looked at everyone head on, even uncomfortably so.

      “Besides,” he shot at her suddenly. “Why are you up?”

      Sanar couldn’t help laughing at him. “Fair enough. I had a nightmare and I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here to try and forget about it. Cleaning my weapons helps make me feel calm.”

     “A… nightmare.” Grunt was looking at the floor now. “Tell me what that is, exactly.”

      “Well, it’s when you sleep and you have a bad dream, like something you don’t want to see. Sometimes it seems really real, and even when you wake up you still see it.” She dared to put a hand on the Krogan’s shoulder. “Do you ever have dreams, Grunt?”

      “I dreamed in the tank. Sometimes I guess I dream outside of it. I slept today and I relived the glorious battle against that swarm of husks in my sleep. Only… somehow it wasn’t as glorious the second time.”

      Sanar peered at him in astonishment. “Were you maybe… afraid in your dream?” she asked cautiously.

      “Of course not,” he snorted, thumping his chest. “I am Krogan! I am never afraid!” He shifted uncomfortably, looking out the window and back at the floor. “I was not afraid,” he insisted again. “But in my dream the husks overpowered you. I know that wouldn’t happen - you’re my battlemaster. But I woke up and didn’t want to sleep and see it again.”

      “It’s ok, Grunt,” Sanar said with a smile, knowing better than to try comforting him. “C’mon down to the mess and we’ll see if we can find a snack.”


End file.
